


i don't know what to do (with my tenderness)

by wordswithdragons



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2019-07-14 06:17:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16034696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordswithdragons/pseuds/wordswithdragons
Summary: a place to store all my rayllum drabbles, originally published on tumblr at "raayllum"





	1. a softer world

**Author's Note:**

> a list of drabbles inspired by a collection of "a softer world" prompts from tumblr, with no capitalization for this first chapter bc i do what i want

_5. my five year plan is to maybe go out for ice cream this afternoon? (Live every day like the ice cream store is closing.)_

callum learns this quickly when ezran tries to explain the concept to rayla in the biggest human city before the border. after this it will be rivers and small towns, and the trace of winter winds, but for now they walk the city streets and pass by purple flags and brown brick stores. ezran declares they have to find the nearest ice cream shop once it becomes clear rayla has no clue what it is, and because she has an even harder time saying no to ezran than callum does, rayla lets herself be tugged along by the kid and callum follows.

ezran, somehow, finds the closest ice cream shop and presses his face against the fogged up class. the room inside is tinted pink with the flavours on display. he points at the blueberry frazzle. “that one’s my favourite. you can get whatever flavour you want, though!”

rayla looks unsure at having so many options, and callum knows when she turns to him she’s looking for a way out. “are you sure it’s smart to be spending some of the last of our money on…” she glances at the sign,  _esther’s ice cream store_ , for the name. “this ice cream?”

but callum grins and sticks his hands in his pockets. they’d sold some of their finer clothes and the like from the palace, to help them buy food when they did have to venture into towns or cities.

“it can’t hurt. besides, you’ve never had it before, and we won’t be able to have it for a long time once we’re in xadia. we shouldn’t miss out.”

she pouts at him, but follows him and ezran into the store anyway. when her uncertainty doesn’t give way to excitement even halfway through the line, however, callum leans over to her with just a twinge of guilt.

“how about you let ez and i order first, and you can try and spoonful of each of ours, and then you pick your own flavour? once you have a better idea,” he suggests.

rayla immediately brightens, and gives him a cheeky grin. “that’s the smartest idea you’ve had all day.”

callum tries not to smile, and gets strawberry ice cream. he grabs a spoon for rayla, and she makes a tiny dip in both of their orders, first ezran’s, then his.

“i think i prefer the strawberry,” she says carefully, not wanting to see ezran’s face fall.

it doesn’t. in fact, he looks strangely smug. “i figured you’d prefer callum—’s order.”

rayla gets strawberry and licks at it as they walk back out onto the street. callum hopes the cold hides his flush, and tries not to think about how he knows how her mouth would taste if he kissed her, right now.

maybe it was for the best they wouldn’t have another opportunity to have ice cream anytime soon.

_2. At my worst, I worry you’ll realize you deserve better.  At my best, I worry you won’t. (I’ve never been better.)_

“are you really happy like this?”

callum sits up to look at her, sheets pooling around his waist. rayla’s night gown is a pale purple that matches her eyes, her shoulders and arms bare and showing off the blue markings of her people. her voice is quiet, her back to him. he lets his arm brace her back, his hand finding her opposite hip as he moves closer, his brow furrowing.

“what do you mean?”

after six years, it’s disconcerting when he can’t tell what’s going through her head. she’s not usually meek. even when they’ve been apart for months, him as an ambassador in other parts of xadia, or visiting his brother the king, rayla is still familiar to him, no matter what she’s done to ease political unrest. even if she has a few new scars for him to discover, for him to kiss.

she keeps her hands clasped in her lap, brushing her knees. “this.” she shrugs. “us.”

a slight sigh escapes him, as he swings his legs over so he’s sitting beside her. “i still don’t know what you mean, rayla?”

“the way we are… this can’t be enough for you. seeing each other maybe four times a year for a few weeks on end. i know we said we’d always be together, but—”

she’d told him years ago, before they’d ever kissed, that moonshadow elves much less assassins, didn’t typically get married. very few elves choose the strength of the connection of a soul binding ceremony, and assassins were forbidden from partaking; it is too easy for them to die, and for their partner to suffer both physically and mentally until they do, too.

“i never meant it had to be like  _this,_ ” he says softly, letting his fingers graze her upper arm in a way he hopes is consoling. “i just always wanted to be your friend.”

she frowns, upset now. “you are my friend, i just meant—i can’t be what you deserve, callum. doesn’t that bother you?”

“no, it doesn’t.” he kisses her shoulder. “because you’re more than what i deserve.”

he knows she doesn’t believe him, knows it will take more than the talks they’ve had and one they’re having for her to believe him. but she laces her fingers through his when he takes her hand, and lets him tug her back into bed with him.

she’s still there when he wakes up in the morning, soft light haloing her hair as it streams through the window, making her horns glint.

if only she knew how little he deserved her, too.

_7. I know your weakness.  It’s kisses.  You are doomed. (Don’t worry.  We’re all doomed eventually.)_

it’s not their first kiss—they were too unsure and fumbling for that the first time, soft lips tingling with sparks and nerves—but the first time rayla kisses him and feels truly comfortable doing so, she can finally sit back and enjoy how callum short circuits afterwards.

his eyes go wide, a bright flush colouring his cheeks, and even if he was slightly annoyed with her before, he’s momentarily happy before he remembers whatever they were bickering about before. sometimes she pulls him back in to see if she can kiss that away too, but most of the time she’s too amused at seeing him try to compose himself again. (like right now.)

“rayla,” he admonishes, and she lets loose a giggle, “that is completely unprofessional, and unbecoming; if you can’t win an argument without kissing me—”

“so you don’t want me to kiss you?”

“ _no_ , i—” he frowns, and gives up her game, scooting closer so their knees brush as they sit underneath an oak tree. ezran, bait and zym had left to play fire, burp, and seek an hour ago.

“hey. i’ll hear you out, okay? mostly. just don’t forget, i know your weakness now.”

he rolls his eyes, but relents. “how horrible. fine. so, as i was saying—” still, as he talks and she listens, a smile spreads across his face alongside the blush still tinging his cheeks, and she can’t help but get a little distracted when he takes her hand and laces their fingers together.

even if it means her doom, too, she doesn’t plan on ever letting go.

_34. When you’re around I don’t know how to hide my feelings.  I count in binary, in my head.  zero one one zero one one and you count clouds. (while you count clouds)_

rayla has grown accustomed to counting her breaths. it was a training technique, initially, to learn how to breathe so you could sprint long distances, not get tired in a fight. her affinity for it, aided by her counting system—rigid, unyielding, 1010101—was one of the things that had made her the fastest and youngest trained assassin ever. one and two. live or die. there were only two options.

and then callum comes along and ruins it all.

rayla doesn’t know how it happens, or when it does, but now whenever she sees him, his smile or a slight flush of his cheeks or the sun in his hair or the stars in his eyes, or just him, dorky with his scarf in a blaze of red, her damn breath catches in her throat, and it throws her all off balance. 

she’s just glad he hasn’t noticed it yet (she  _hopes_  ezran hasn’t either, but she can’t be sure since he gave her an odd look when she had to reorientate herself the other day afterwards). it’d be so embarrassing, and worse still, how could she explain it if either of them did? callum was so cute it gave her a heart attack? what sort of explanation was that?

now she tries to prepare herself for the catch, even if it’s hard. even if he’s so unexpectedly cute sometimes, like today, when they’re getting camp set up while bait sleeps and ezran goes hunting with zym, they’re just waiting for the water to boil, and he lies down with a smile on the grass to look up at the sky.

“what… are you doing?” she asks, puzzled. humans and their strange ways.

“counting clouds.” it doesn’t clear anything else up, but he smiles at her, lopsided and eyes bright, and—damn, there’s the catch, her heart suddenly tighter and lighter all at once. “wanna join?”

she doesn’t know what it will entail, but rayla lays down beside him anyway, and looks up at the clouds. “what’s the point?”

“to pass time?”

she snorts, derisive. “humans are dumb.”

he shrugs, unbothered, and goes back to his task, counting quietly under his breath. his hands are clasped over his chest, and she can’t help but watch the rise and fall of it. steady.

she’s never let her breath go so slow before, but it’s worth it, to match his. she counts her own numbers in her head—one two one two one two—and has never felt less grounded.

she nudges him in the stomach a few minutes later. “so. this counting cloud game. how do you play?”

he grins, and she tucks the place where her breath catches between her heartbeats, and tries to keep them slow to keep them hidden. it has never been harder.


	2. more drabbles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> more drabbles from my tumblr sideblog, raayllum

_an amulet (post-s1)_

Ellis sees them to the next town over. It’s a tiny thing past the Cursed Caldera, and Lujanne had supplied them with gold—an illusion, but one that would take weeks to vanish—and his stomach twists at the thought of duping people. It doesn’t feel right. He knows they’ll need supplies. Warmer clothes now that they’re heading further north towards the Breach, meat for Zym who’s hungry whenever he’s not napping in Rayla’s arms (turns out baby dragons sleep even more than human or elf babies do) and food for the rest of them.

The one good thing is that Rayla is a bit fascinated with money—“Elves don’t need money,” she explains—and Callum lets her turn the different coloured coins, gold, silver, and bronze, over in her four fingered hands. He’s tasked himself with handling the money because Ezran is too young and will spend too much of it on jelly tarts or other sweets,  and Rayla doesn’t know how it works. He just hopes he can spend it wisely.

The marketplace of the town doubles as the main street, so he lets them wander, Ellis and Ava sticking close to his side, Zym cloaked by one of Lujanne’s spells with an invisibility pendant around his neck. Callum wonders if the spell extends to hiding the smoke that rises whenever the dragon snores from inside Ezran’s knapsack.

Rayla’s looking at cloaks with Ezran, and Callum at fishing rods (he’s sure they can figure how to use it, right?) when Ellis rushes up to him and tugs on his hand with a gloved mitt. “Look!” She points back towards the jewelry stand she’d been at, Ava waiting patiently for her, the wolf’s tag wagging. “Amulets!”

Callum smiles, knowing what’s on her mind. “They’re pretty, Ellis, but I really don’t think we can afford to—”

“Please? Just to look?”

Callum sighs, and then smiles. How can he say no to those puppy dog eyes? “Okay. But just for five minutes.”

The amulets are beautifully crafted, he has to admit, made of gold and silver and assortment of precious gems. They’re lined up in rows, each seemingly corresponding to one of the six primal sources. Perhaps they help store or channel magical energy? 

“Try one on,” Ellis says, taking one off the rack. It’s a purplish blue, like the way his primal stone had been. Like how Rayla’s bound hand had been turning.

“Ellis—” But with Ava and Ellis pouting at him, Callum knows it’s another lost battle. “Fine, I’ll try on three. Only  _three_  Ellis!”

The little girl takes her time in choosing wisely, and Ezran wanders over when Callum’s trying on the third, a pale blue like the wintering sky streaked above them, a croissant in hand. Rayla trails behind him, smirking, and Callum feels his face heat. Maybe he was standing too close to the sunfire amulets.

“Well, I tried them on, Ellis,” Callum says, taking the chain off his neck. “But we really should be moving on.”

“You’re not getting one?” Ezran asks. Behind him, Callum can see the baker Bait likely helped swipe a croissant from.

“They’re too expensive,” Callum says. It’s no loss, and Ellis seems contented as she scratches behind Ava’s ears and begins looking around for a new stall to focus on. 

Rayla’s still smiling. “Too bad,” she says. “That last one matched your eyes nicely.” She winks at him as she takes Ezran’s hand and walks past him, and it’s all Callum can do to not stand there blushing like an idiot.

He feels electric. He must’ve touched the lightning styled amulet.

Yeah, that’s it.

He jogs after the others. “Hey guys, wait up!”

* * *

 

_4. i don’t know what the fuck true love even is but i do want to hang out with you for basically the rest of my life. (let’s hang out - TO THE DEATH)_

She’s nearly 20 years old when it occurs to her that Callum might never leave. They’ve been in their cottage in a small Moonshadow village for a year and a half now, with a little workshop for him to practice his magic with a place for her blades on the wall. He draws with his sketchbook on one knee and her head resting on the other, while he strokes her hair with his free hand, on rainy afternoons. He knows how to hold his arm while they’re brushing their teeth in the mornings so they don’t bump elbows, anymore.

If they were any other couple, she’d consider them married and her roll her eyes when she found out they weren’t, because who were they fooling, really?

Is she just a fool, for getting the stupid thought in her head now, where it won’t go away? What if he doesn’t feel the same? What if he hasn’t even thought about it? They’ve talked never about futures before. They never even talked about moving in together, it just happened. What is she supposed to do now? 

“Callum?” she calls, because whenever she doesn’t know what to do talking to him helps. Maybe she can play her cards discreetly enough he won’t know what’s bothering her  _is_  him.

“Yeah?” He walks into their small bedroom with a circular window overlooking their garden, drying his hands off. She must’ve interrupted him in the middle of washing dishes, and he grows more solemn when he catches sight of her face. “Hey, everything okay?” he says cautiously.

“Yeah,” she says, smiling quickly. “Yeah, everything’s fine, I just… gods, how do I say this? Do you want to—” she grits her teeth because it’s so juvenile, but she has no idea how else to say it, in one hurried breath. “Do you want to hang out together until we die?”

Callum blinks, his face catapulting from concern to fear, to confusion, and then to just a crinkle of fondness. “Is… that how elves propose? Gods, Rayla, for a second I thought you were breaking up with me—”

“Breaking up?”

“Well, yeah—” Now it’s his split second to panic, again. “Are—aren’t we together?”

“Yes, yes we’re—” She laughs, her chest somehow heavy. It feels like a drain full of water, exhausted but thankful at having gotten all her emotions out, because he’s as hopeless as her, and she drops her forehead onto his shoulder. She takes his hand and winds their fingers together. “Yes, that’s how elves propose. So, what do you say?”

Callum plays with her fingers, and kisses the top of her head. “To the death, huh?” he sounds amused, but her heart shakes for a moment, because it’s still not a  _Yes_.

“There’s a soul binding ceremony and everything,” she mumbles. They’ve never talked about how human weddings work.

“I guess I could live with that,” he muses, grinning. “Hanging out with you, to the death.”

She raises her head and cringes. That’s really how he’s going to continually refer to their marriage, isn’t he? “Don’t say it like  _that_ —” she chides, and he cuts her off with a kiss. She’s quiet, even once he pulls away, beaming at her, and she slowly smiles back.

“Yes,” he says. “I’ll marry you.”

Rayla has never known a lot about love, or relationships. But she thinks, if true love exists, then it must feel something like this.

* * *

_17. I do not believe in love at first sight.  But god damn. (Look at you.)_

His first thought is that she’s going to kill him. The second is that she’s pretty. She’s young—younger, than he’d thought an elf maybe even could be—with white hair and curved horns, and mesmerizing purple eyes. There’s a grace about her too, lithe and limb, clutching her blades with surety. 

And then his survival instinct kicks in and realizes he can’t keep gawking at this pretty girl if he wants to live. (He learns she’s looking for Ezran and thinks, _I want to live but less than I want him to,_  and—)

It’s only under a canopy of trees and moonlight that he gets a better look at her later that night, at her cheek markings that swoop down like tears. They turn dark blue in shadows, lighter and more with a purple hue in sunlight. He wonders, as they pack up in the morning, if her eyes will do the same.

If they sparkle at everything like that, or just him, when she agrees to go get his cube, bemused even though they both know she probably shouldn’t be.

Callum doesn’t think he cares. He just knows he has to get his head on straight. He can’t trust her. He can’t  _like_  her. Even if gods, he thinks he wants to.

* * *

 

50.  _I will always love you, or anyway I will always have loved you now. (And you will always be someone who was beautiful, once.)_

It had been years since the end of the war, years since she settled down in Xadia, but Rayla’s heart still skipped a beat every time she saw him again, red scarf around his throat, a gleam in his eyes and a mage’s brooch pinned to his left breast pocket. Callum couldn’t make the trip often—he was more often needed in other parts of Xadia, or by his king brother’s side—but he still tried to come by every three years or so, and Rayla greatly appreciated it.

She knew her children did as well, as they beat her out the door, racing past the small garden and down the stone path of her white cottage, and launched themselves at the man. “Uncle Callum!” Juni exclaimed, white hair pulled back in braids together.

Callum laughed and caught them both, scooping up Raeven, who was only six, into his arms. His wedding ring got snagged on the little girl’s woollen shawl before he disentangled it. “I’m surprised you remember me,” he said. “The last time I saw you, you were this small—” He held out his hands to a pinch, and Raeven gasped and giggled.

“If you drop her, it’s on your head,” came Rayla’s lilt, as she walked out the door and greeted him. Callum’s face lit up at the sight of her, and he set Raeven down next to the taller Juni, before he embraced her.

“It’s good to see you,” he beamed. His arms were as warm as Rayla remembered.

“It’s good to see you too, sad prince,” she mumbled, pulling away with a brilliant grin. “How are Mara and the kids?”

At this, his smile widened even more (she hadn’t thought it possible). “She’s pregnant again. We’re expecting winter for the birth.” 

Rayla punched him lightly in the shoulder. “Nice of you to tell me in your letters,” she chided, as they turned and walked back towards the house. For the moment Juni and Raeven were content to look at the butterflies dotting their garden instead of having Callum’s attention. “And I thought Ezran was dense. Writes all about the new jelly tart bakery opening up but not the new trading laws he’d bartered with the southern waters.”

Callum held up his hands. There was some slight grey in his hair, now, that hadn’t been there last time they’d seen each other in person. “We only found out three weeks ago. The letter wouldn’t have reached you in time.”

“Ah well,” she softened. “You’re forgiven.”

“And Arvis is well?” Callum checked.

Rayla nodded, the hair hanging over her ears bouncing slightly. “Aye, he’s out gathering at the moment. Dragonfig is in season and it’s Juni’s favourite type of stew, so I said I’d make it for her if her father brought back enough. He should be back soon—he’ll be pleased to see you.”

“Just don’t forget that it’s your turn to visit next time,” Callum said, nudging her lightly in the side. “Ezran misses you.” His smile turned a little sad. “We all do.”

“Don’t make me go soft,” she warned, smiling. She always forgot just how much she’d missed him until he was standing right in front of her. A blissful and painful irony, she supposed. “I’ll have to come see how you’ve remodeled the castle. The hallway still there?”

“You mean the one in which you levelled a sword at my face?” Callum said, crossing his arms over his chest as she opened the door.

She laughed. “Perhaps.”

He unfolded, smiling as he trailed after her, and she called for her kids to come in. Juni and Raevan rushed inside, caught up in a game of tag. “Yes, it is. I told Ezran it was the one thing he couldn’t change.”

At this, her eyes unexpectedly watered. “Well,” she managed, speaking around the lump in her throat. “That’s awfully…”

Callum took her hand, and their wedding rings touched—hers silver, his gold. “It’s hard to believe how young we were,” he said softly. “We were just kids.”

“Yes.” Just kids when they loved each other, and never said a thing, until it was too late to say anything that mattered. “We were.”

But Rayla couldn’t say she had regrets, when Arvis came home and embraced Callum like a brother, when the warmth of his hand and his hug had faded, when he showed off the drawings of his children to her and her family, as her children called him uncle the same way his called her their aunt. She loved Arvis, knew he loved Mara. They had gone their separate ways, pried apart their hearts, a very long time ago, and rather painlessly.

Still, she wondered if in another life, she wouldn’t have wondered at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> still have some more drabbles i plan to transfer over, as well as a oneshot. get hype


	3. (each time) you happen to me all over again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hey, I like her too. But the thing is, she's... not telling us everything. I can feel it." Or, a oneshot in which Callum likes Rayla, against his better judgement. Set in between 1x03 and up until 1x06. [Rayla/Callum]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title comes from edith wharton's, "the age of innocence"

 

The first time Callum leaves Rayla alone with Ezran, he's nervous.

It's not that Ez is dumb, because he isn't, and it's not that Rayla's dangerous, even though she is, but because they've only been travelling through the woods for a day or two, and he can still remember the way her blades felt at his throat. His eyes track her as she plots out their path through the woods towards the Banthor Lodge, even if he's the one giving instructions, and he can't shake the feeling that she's in charge. Even if he and Ezran are princes and she's just an assassin, and it's their dragon egg, and they left everything behind to try and deliver it to the Dragon Queen.

The again, Callum considers, Rayla had too. And sometimes she smiles and teases him, and he can forget how they met. But then he looks at Ezran—there's only two targets tonight—and thinks of what would have happened if Callum hadn't talked long enough, if Rayla had been more impatient, if she'd found Ezran first, and he knows he can't forget.

He can't.

The thing is, Callum likes her. She's quick witted with a snarky streak, she knows her way around the forest and is kind to Ezran. Sure, she teases Callum a bit more than he'd like, but she also teaches him about magic, and calls him a mage. She's  _cool_ , too, with her dual swords and fast paced fighting moves. He knows that if any enemies show up, between her blades and his magic, they can protect Ezran and the Egg.

And as the days pass, he doesn't think she'll turn those blades on them again, either. She'd fought the older elf, Runaan, had offered to go into the tower with him to save his dad. She doesn't drink blood, she's not a monster, and she tosses his cube into his lap with a scowl, but she still got it even when her life was at stake. She's scared of water and her eyes light up when she talks about Xadia, and he wishes he could see what she does. She's brave and she saved Bait and she wishes her parents were dead. Callum swallows and doesn't hold it against her, because she doesn't know about his mother, and Moonshadow culture is different, anyway.

Every time he thinks he's got a good hold on things, that he's paying enough attention, has figured out something is odd, that she's keeping something from them, that she's an elf but not what he thought elves were like, that she's an assassin who's kind, every time he thinks he's being vigilant she'll smile at him and he drops his guard with all the grace of a buttery fingered buffoon. Each time, she happens to him all the time, and while his suspicion grows, so does his sadness that he can't let her in as much as Ezran has, as much as he wants to.

Because he does. He wants to.

When Callum wakes up and Ezran says Rayla is gone, his first fear is for the Egg, but his second—one he tampers down and holds close to his chest—is of her. They might be relatively safe in the woods, but they're still in a very human Katolis. Aunt Amaya likely wouldn't have given up the hope of 'saving' him and Ezran that easily.

"But I like her, Callum," Ezran says, and Callum sighs as his brow pinches.

"Hey, I like her too."

Because he does. A lot. He's never had a friend like her before. He's not even sure he can call her a friend. But he knows he feels like she's one, knows he'd rely on her if he has to. He know relies on her more than he currently has to. Callum purses his lips and raises his hands.

"But she's not telling us everything. I can  _feel_  it."

Because he can, in the way she looks away quickly sometimes, in how her jokes will fill the silence around their campfires until something in her eyes shift, and she falls quiet. In the way she herds them along quickly and rubs at her wrist, and he doesn't want to ask again because she technically gave him an answer even if it's not one he buys.

In a way, he's glad he spends the rest of the early morning infuriated by her, in the way she won't give him a straight answer and makes their lives harder, with the trek up the mountain. It's easier to be angry at her, and her strange stupid Moonshadow wristband. Because he hates that he likes her as much as he does, despite everything.

And he doesn't like that he has a growing feeling that if he had to save her or the Egg, he'd pick her, and he doesn't know what that says about him, at all.


	4. your heart is your masterpiece

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Rayla's sixteenth birthday. Callum knows exactly what to get her. [Rayla/Callum] title is from "i'll keep you safe," by sleeping at last

An artist's sketchbook was a precious thing. Callum had been a little hesitant to hand it over to Rayla, that first morning after fleeing the castle, but she'd tended to it with care, only using one page, and tucking the charcoal back between two pages and giving it back exactly the way he'd handed it to her. He hadn't minded letting her draw in it occasionally since then, her sketches mostly creatures from Xadia and strange fauna that fascinated her. She helped him keep a glossary of spells near the back of the book, her handwriting neater than his.  _Astero_  and  _fulminus_  had been the first, but plenty more had been added over the last two months as she remembered more draconic words.

It had been Ezran who'd had the mind to ask her about birthdays, when they'd stumbled into a small town and passed by a cake shop. He'd been eagerly discussing Callum's upcoming birthday for about a week now, bemoaning the lack of jelly tarts and cake (and Callum could agree that birthdays at the castle had always been fun) when Ezran had turned to the elf, his eyes bright, and asked, "Rayla, when's your birthday?"

The girl paused, dappled light from the setting sun beset in mountains catching the curve of her lips and her white locks of hair. It was moments like these that made Callum want to draw her, even if he feared she'd find any sketch he made, now that she perused his sketchbook so often.

"At the end of the month," she said.

"The thirty-first?" Callum said.

A smile tugged at her mouth. "No, the thirty-second. Yes, the thirty-first, you dummy."

Callum huffed, even if he wasn't that annoyed. "Just checking."

Ezran seized her hand, and Callum smoothed down the flap of his brother's knapsack to better hide the sleeping Zym. "We should get you a cake and presents!"

Rayla chuckled, bending down to his level. "That's very sweet Ez, but I don't need all that. Besides, we don't know when the next town will be, and we already have plenty we need to get. It's alright. Just a birthday wish from you will be more than enough."

"What am I," said Callum, "chopped liver?"

"Aye, don't worry," Rayla said, straightening up and nudging Callum in the side. "I'd never forget about you, pouty prince."

Callum narrowed his eyes at her, but then Ez was tugging her along and asking all about birthdays for Moonshadow elves, customs and stuff like that. Callum listened to Rayla patiently explaining that Moonshadow elves got their tattoos when they turned fourteen, and he was building up the drive to be a buzzkill and remind them to keep their voices down, when—

He stopped in front of the shabby store they'd walked in front of, the windows full of musty books and ones with glossy covers, and—sketchbooks!

"I'm gonna duck in here for a minute," he called to them.

"You've already filled up your sketchbook?" said Ezran.

"Just browsing," he said, not wanting to voice the idea already forming in his head. Not yet anyway. "I'll catch up with you soon, okay?"

Rayla eyed him warily. "Just meet us back in an hour," she said. "By the fountain."

He gave her his best, most charming smile; it didn't do much. "Hey, am I ever not on time?"

"Well actually," Ezran piped up, and Callum shot him a look, even as his brother and friend exchanged cheeky grins.

"I'll meet you by the fountain in an hour," Callum said, and shut himself away inside the store, sighing. Why was he doing this again? Oh, right.

He found the shop owner by the checkout, somewhere among the crowded bookshelves and tables stacked with thick tomes and journals. It was an elderly man with grey hair turning white and half-moon spectacles. A sign, maybe, if Callum believed in those.

"Hello," Callum said, and he twisted the end of his scarf in one hand, stupidly and suddenly nervous, "do you have any blank sketchbooks for sale?"

* * *

Afterwards, the biggest issue was keeping the present hidden. He'd bought a nice leather-bound sketchbook and had traded some of his best sketches of animals and fauna for it (the shopkeeper had wanted to frame them and sell them for a good price), so he just hoped Rayla wouldn't notice they were gone or that his bag was slightly thicker than usual.

His birthday came and went, and while fifteen didn't feel any older, there was a pang at not being at the castle and with his dad and Aunt Amaya for it. Ezran gave him a big hug and some sort of drawing scribbled on the back of a dry piece of bark, and Callum felt touched it'd been weighing on his baby brother's mind enough for there to be anything. Rayla had given him a grin and the last of her new batch of moonberry juice, and a promise to not tease him for the rest of the day. (He wasn't sure how long that would actually last, but hey—it was a nice sentiment.)

"So," Rayla said as they trekked through the woods one day, a week until her birthday, "is your present going to be I get to tease you as much as I want for a whole day?" she joked.

Callum smirked at her, and watched Zym bounding in front, Ezran on his heels and a disgruntled Bait attempting to keep up. "I don't know," he drew out the syllables.

Rayla snorted and rolled her eyes. "Please. It's not like you know how to make moonberry juice."

"You'll see what I have planned," he promised, and her smile softened. Callum looked away and scooped up Bait as a distraction until Bait escaped his grasp and Rayla, finally, looked away. The prince found himself both relieved and disappointed. It always did funny things to his stomach when Rayla smiled at him like that, and he still wasn't sure what to make of it.

Callum was just glad she didn't press him too much on his 'plan' for the next week; he had a feeling it'd be awfully hard to convincingly lie to her (when his little brother's life wasn't on the line, anyway).

Finally, though, it was the thirty-first, and it seemed everyone was in the mood to wake up early that day (except maybe Bait). Ezran was energetic and Rayla spry, and he gave her the same birthday hug he'd given Callum, alongside some sort of small wooden spear that Zym had helped him furnish. Callum had to admit it would be a better tool for spearing fish in the rivers they walked along than her swords. Maybe he should have gotten a more practical gift for her after all...

Callum shook himself. No. She liked drawing in his sketchbook _a lot_. She'd like having her own.

Once she'd finished praising Ezran for his gift, Rayla looked at Callum with a smile. "Callum—"

He gave her an excited grin. All his hiding and hoping was about to pay off. "Wait here," he said, and grabbed his bag from behind the boulder near their campfire. He hauled it back over to where she and Ezran were sitting on more small rocks, and knelt in front of her as he threw back the flap. "Here!" He held the leather-bound book out to her in his hands.

The smile was wiped off her face, her eyes wide. "Callum, I..." She took the book from him, their fingers brushing, her eyes glued to it.

"It's a sketchbook," he elaborated with a wave of his arm. "I thought you'd like drawing in your own one, you know."

Rayla let out a soft noise of disbelief, and then raised her head and smiled at him. "Yes, thank you, I—" She flipped open the cover and a ran a hand over the creamy soft page inside, and he saw the happiness on her face falter. Why was she sad? He watched her force the smile back up, even as his vanished. "Thank you," she said again. "I love it."

Ezran looked between them as her smile grew weaker, and his face remained a mix of confusion and sadness. Zym chirped, and Ezran hastily scooped him up. "Yes, I think Zym needs to go, so Bait and I will just—take him! We'll be back later okay bye!"

Callum didn't watch Ezran wander over to the rim of the woods surrounding their clearing. He had his answer now, as he levelled his gaze at Rayla. "You don't like it," he said. He tried not to let disappointment well up too strongly inside him. It wasn't her fault she didn't like it. He'd just picked the wrong gift—and jeez, he'd nearly spent  _money_  on it too—

"No," said Rayla, "no, I do, it's just—"

Callum rubbed the back of his neck. "It's alright, Rayla—"

"No." She seized his hand and pulled it overtop the sketchbook's cover. "I do like it. It's just..." She sighed and bowed her head slightly, and his face heated as she ran her thumb over his gloved knuckles. "I mostly liked drawing in your sketchbook because I was drawing with  _you_."

Something warm fluttered in his chest, and her admission seemed to knock him hard over the head. Callum had to blink a few times, before uttering, "Oh."

Rayla pushed herself off her rock and started to walk away, her new book tucked under her arm. "Forget it," she said with a shake of his head, but Callum sprang after her.

"Wait, Rayla—" He caught her by the arm and wheeled her back to him. Her face was screwed up in a frown as he tried not to laugh. The whole situation was absurdly funny, suddenly. Or maybe it was the elation at what she'd just said. Either way, he grinned at her. "That's okay. I like drawing with you too."

Rayla's eyes darted away, and then back at him. He'd never seen her so shy before. "You - you do?"

He nodded. "Yeah." He slung his bag over his shoulder, his own sketchbook landing resoundingly against his leg. "Tell you what. How about we finish filling my sketchbook up with drawings, and then we start drawing in yours?"

Rayla smiled at him, broad and her eyes brimming with happiness. "Deal."

(Later, if their hands brushed while both drawing on the same page, they only smiled and added more streaks of charcoal to the page.)


	5. still into you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Years after the end of the war, Rayla and Callum visit Katolis.

"Callum, c'mon—" A tug on his scarf that he brushes off, too comfortable to care. He keeps his eyes stubbornly shut, but he can still picture the eyeroll his partner must be giving him at this point. She tugs again, on the lapels of his coat this time. "Come on, sleepy prince," she says, just a smidgen more fond than exasperated. "The carriage can't be that comfortable."

As if to prove her right, it jolts upwards and his brow hits the window it was pressed against. They must've gone over a pot hole, which means that they've reached the beginnings of Ez's new infrastructure project and—yeah, he really should get up now. He rubs at the injured spot on his temple, feeling a bit like a baby maybe, but is it really fair that Rayla's smirking at him like that, all too pleased with herself?

He looks far more awake than he does, her hair braided back in a looser coil that reaches her shoulder blades, her eyes sparkling in a way that still makes him stop and stare, because how can any one person be  _that_  beautiful? She's pulled on her sleek green robes too, the seal of Katolis stitched along the sleeve hems as a show of diplomacy and goodwill—she's basically the kingdom's princess after all, even if no one would dare call her that.

And she's smirking at him, a hand on her hip and her wedding band glittering up at him. "Are you just going to ogle all day," she teases, "or are you going to freshen yourself up a bit, too?"

Callum pushes himself up, soothed slightly when she leans over and smooths his hair out for him. "I don't look too bad, do I?" he says hopefully, fighting off a yawn.

Rayla pats his cheek, fingers catching the stubble growing along his jaw. "You could use a shave," she jeers, and he swats her hand away with an eye roll and smile of his own.

"You like it."

"Hm."

Ezran is waiting for them in the castle's main courtyard when they arrive, and Callum has to tilt his head back to look his baby brother in the eye once they're done embracing. He still doesn't quite know how to tell Ez he reminds him more of Harrow every day, in his kindness and kingliness, but he's sure he'll find a way soon enough. Ezran hugs Rayla next, and she beams at him.

"How are the wee humans doing?" she asks, referring to his subjects.

"Managing without their Xadian protector," Ezran says, and they laugh. It's one of the sounds that make Callum feel the most whole. "How's everyone back in Ryling?"

"Good," Callum says.

"But nosy," Rayla adds. "Our neighbours asked me the other day when we're having children, and we're not even  _wed_  yet—"

"Until Runaan's asking I don't think it's that much of a problem," Callum says, looping his arm around her waist and she settles, letting out a sigh of exasperation.

"Sorry," she says to Ezran, working her mouth around the apology as though it was ill-fitting. "I didn't mean to come all this way to vent to you."

"Don't apologize," the king says. "I've missed it." He eyes both of them, and Callum can see the mischievous glint of youth amid the deep blue. "And I trust you two have missed our customary jelly tarts?"

"Very much," Callum agrees, and Ezran laughs and escorts and dines with them in the kitchens the way the two boys used to do in their childhood. It makes him happy that he gets to share he and Ezran's old tradition with Rayla, now. In spite of the crazy circumstances they met each other in, sometimes he has trouble remembering he and Ez haven't actually known her all their lives, even if the night they snuck out of the castle with a dragon egg feels like a whole lifetime, instead of just ten years, ago.

Even the king can't have afternoons, off though, so Ezran gets dragged away to some meetings and promises to meet them for dinner. On any other day Callum would have been disappointed his brother had to go, but not today, as they share a wink before he left and unbeknownst to Rayla. This surprise is for her, after all, and it's something her and him have to do on their own.

By now, everyone is used to Rayla's presence and any who opposed in the earlier years have been fired, so they spend a good hour or two sitting in the courtyard benches and enjoying the courtyard weather. It's colder in Ryling during this time of year, and Callum has missed spring in Katolis with its warm breezes.

It's close to three, judging by the sun dial and shadows, when Callum finishes his drawing and Rayla lets out a hum of approval at it. He closes his sketchbook, and then takes her hand.

"C'mon," he says. "There's something I wanna do before dinner."

She smirks. "Oh?"

He gives her a smirk of his own and tugs her up by the hand. "Not that," he says. "At least, not yet," he amends, pressing a quick kiss to her lips, and he can feel her smiling. "Now c'mon."

He doesn't let go of her hand, and she lets him lead her back into the castle and onto the upper floors near the turrets. The hallways begin to look familiar before they pass an old suit of armour, and a red embroidered tapestry on the wall, and he watches and waits for the recognition to come into her eyes. It does slowly, and her hand slips out of his as she takes a few steps forwards, the way he knew she would, to double check.

"Callum?" she says, wonderingly, as she turns back to face him with a soft awe on her face, and then shock overtakes her beautiful features because he's on one knee, and holding a box with a ring. Rayla gasps. "This—"

"—is the hallway where we first met? Yes it is," he says, beaming, and although she's covering her mouth with her hands he can see the smile growing underneath. "You snuck up on me that day, in more ways than one, and you didn't just sweep the leg—you also swept me off my feet."

"Sap," she says, but she's crying a little and smiling too wide for it to have any bite.

"It's the truth," he says, and she laughs. "Rayla," he continues and she quiets, although her smile doesn't dim. "You are my best friend and you've already been my family for a long time. I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, making you happy, and only slightly annoyed. Rayla, will you marry me?"

Rayla steps forward and he stands, and then she's throwing her arms around him and hugging him tight. "Yes, I'll marry you."

Later, when they tell Ezran, he only has a smug look on his face. "Took you both long enough. 'Because you're with a girl,' remember?"


End file.
